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“I’m just getting so many mixed messages.”
The frustration in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and not in a good way, even more so because you know there’s nothing you can do for him, nothing you can do to make it better. You feel like you’re about to cry and so you take your headphones off and hand them to Michael, quietly telling him, “I’m gonna need a minute.”
Michael nods but doesn’t say anything and you can tell from his stance, his arms crossed and his eyes glued to the screen, that he feels just as helpless as you do and so you put your hand on his arm and give it a quick squeeze before you head to the back of the garage. Instead of turning right towards Daniel’s drivers room you go left, the long corridor leading you past Zak’s office and the team’s debrief room before you end up at a door that gives access to a small outside area behind the main building.
It’s already dark but still it’s warm outside, the slight breeze caressing your face in not an entirely unpleasant way even though you don’t really notice it. You lean against the building and close your eyes while you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your emotions under control. Still, a tear slips from your eye and you wipe it away with the back of your hand rather aggressively, a little annoyed now that you can’t seem to pull yourself together because the last thing Daniel needs is to find out you were having an emotional breakdown during this race.
You take another few deep breaths while you try to blink away the tears that are still threatening to surface before you push yourself off the wall and head back inside where you find Michael exactly where you left him.
Without taking his eyes off the screen he hands you your headphones back, looking even more worried than he did a few minutes ago and it breaks your heart to see him like this because between him, Daniel, and you, he’s always been the one most in control of his emotions.
Not sure what to say you just put your hand on his back and rub it gently, earning you a weak smile and an arm around your shoulders not much later. You step closer to him, your arm now around his waist, and you stay like this as you watch the final laps of the race together.
***
There seems to be a hint of relief in Tom’s voice when he finally gets to tell Daniel, “Kill the engine, then wait five seconds and switch fully off.”
“Yep,” Daniel replies, resignation now clear in his voice. “Understood.”
Michael lets go of you then and takes off his headphones before holding out his hand to take yours, a weary smile on his face, “I’m gonna go see if he needs anything.”
“Yep,” you nod, not moving. Instead, you watch the screen where you can see Daniel pull into Parc Fermé to leave his car for the FIA to run their post-race screening. Normally you’d leave now and wait for him either in his driver’s room or his trailer, but this time you decide to stay in the garage so you can see him before he goes back out for the mandatory interviews.
Lando passes by you first and you throw him what you hope is an encouraging wink, a little happy that at least he got to finish in the points today even after that puncture made him pit for a second time just laps before the end of the race. He smiles back at you and mouths a quiet, “Thank you,” before continuing on towards Jon who’s waiting for him a bit further down and you can’t help but smile when you see the hug Lando gives his trainer.
When you turn back around you see Daniel coming towards you, Michael following a few steps behind and shaking his head at you, which tells you everything you need to know. Fuck. You take a deep breath and stand up a little straighter, determined not to show Daniel that you’re just as heartbroken as he is. You wait until Daniel has taken off his helmet and balaclava before you cup his cheeks in your hands, standing on your toes so you can rest your forehead against his, whispering a quiet, “I love you.”
He sighs, his reply a clipped, “Yeah.”
It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe you and so you find his mouth with yours and kiss him in a way that you hope will convince him otherwise.
“Dan?” Michael’s voice comes from somewhere over Daniel’s shoulder and when you pull back and look at your friend you can see him towards the pit lane, “Lando and Charlotte are waiting, mate.”
“Yep,” Daniel says. He lets out a staggered breath and you can tell just by the way he hangs his head that talking to the press is the last thing he wants to do right now.
If only you could keep him here with you, safe inside the garage, you would, but you know there’s no way he can skip press and so instead you give him a quick kiss, “I’ll go wait in your room and then-”
“No-” His voice is a little rough and so he clears his throat and tries again, “Wait here for me?” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and a little glossed over, “Please?”
You nod and even though you really don’t trust your voice right now you whisper, “Ok.”
***
Once the post-race interviews are done it’s onto the team’s debrief and so it isn’t until much later that Daniel finally finds his way back to where you’ve been waiting for him inside the garage. Most of the equipment has already been packed away into boxes by the team, who are scarily efficient when it comes to these sorts of things. It must be nice for them to have at least some time off until the next race too, you think, especially after this demanding triple header.
You watch as Daniel approaches you, and hold out your hand once he’s close enough, taking his in yours and falling into step beside him as you make your way to his trailer together, your free hand grabbing his arm so you can be even closer to him.
He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, at least for now. Daniel has a tendency to isolate himself after a bad race, the walls around him going up so high and so fast that at times it can be hard to reach him. Still, you know you are one of the few people that can and are allowed to tear down those walls, which means more to you than he’ll ever know.
When you get to his trailer he doesn’t let go of your hand, instead gently tugging on it for you to follow him to the couch, where he sits down, pulling you down on his lap. He lets his head rest against your chest and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you press a kiss into his unruly curls.
“I love you,” you tell him again.
He scoffs but doesn’t say anything.
“Daniel-” you warn him, “-don’t. There is one thing you never ever get to doubt and that is that I love you. Always.”
He lets out a sigh, “Everything else seems up for grabs though.”
You pull back a little and look at him, a little taken aback by how sad he sounds even though it shouldn’t really come as a surprise, “What are you on about?”
He shakes his head, letting you know he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Part of you wants to keep pushing, wants to find out what it is he’s getting at, but you also know he’ll just shut down even more if you do and so you leave it. For now, anyway. Maybe once you’re back at the hotel he’ll feel like talking, you think, like a change of scenery usually does. So you start to untangle yourself from him but not before you press another kiss to his temple, and tell him, “I’ll go get a shower running for you and then we can head back to-”
“Stay,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper but so full of emotion that it almost physically hurts you, his arms wrapping around you to keep you from getting up.
***
You’re not sure how long you’ve sat like this, your chin resting on the top of his head while he works through whatever it is he needs to work through. Every now and then a ragged breath escapes him and every time it pulls on your heartstrings some more. You are so lost in thoughts that when he finally does speak you startle a little from the sound of his voice.
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“Oh, Dan-”
“I’ll be thirty-three next year, maybe it’s time to-” He lets out a shaky breath, “I’m not made for the midfield battle, I- It needs to be all or nothing, not- I just feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time here.”
“Thirty two podiums,” you simply counter, “three pole positions, sixteen fastest laps.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, “Eight wins, the last one just two months ago.”
“What are you? Wikipedia?”
“And that’s just in F1,” you continue, ignoring his comment, although the facts that he is commenting tells you the walls are starting to come down a little. Good. “Want me to rattle off your other statistics too, Ricciardo? Because I could, you know.”
Something that sounds like a chuckle escapes him, “I know.”
“You are one of the most beloved drivers out there, you make your teammates want to be better, do better,” your voice is a little stronger now. “What you did for Max during and after your time at Red Bull together? He wouldn’t be where he is today if it wasn’t for you.”
“I don’t think-”
“Sssh,” you put your finger against his mouth. “Not done yet.” You let go of him then and take his hands, opening his arms up wide enough that you can stand up and sit back down, straddling him now so you can look at him. You smile at him when he lets his hand rest on your hips, “There’s a fire inside of you that most people would be jealous of, because the drive it gives you? Jesus, it makes me want to be the best version of myself. For you. Always. ”
“God, I love you,” he breathes, chasing your mouth with his.
You pull back a little, because there’s more you want to say, “You are kind, and strong-hearted, and even though you talk a big game and treat the world as if it’s your playground because quote unquote, ‘I’m the fuckin’ honeybadger and I laugh in the face of danger-’” You shake your head, “Most importantly, you care.” You let your lips ghost over his then, “You care Dan, and you have no idea how much that matters.”
You cup his face then, “I love you with all my heart and then some, and if anyone, anyone, ever tells you you’re wasting their time well then so help me God, I will hunt their ass down. Because if that ever happens it’s on sight.”
He laughs then, a real laugh this time, “You talk a big game, Mrs Ricciardo.”
“Yep,” you tell him with a smile, leaning in so you can give him a kiss. “And?”
“And?” He replies solemnly but finally there’s a spark in his eyes again.
“You love me for it.”
He smiles softly at you, “That I do.”
You give him another kiss, “That you do.”
“Always.”